


Who We Are

by Wishfulthinking1979



Series: The Fox and the Lady [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: And he will have to deal with it, Brotherhood, Family Feels, Fluff, Fox and his massive allergies to feelings, Fox is peering over my shoulder right now saying 'ugh I hate that', I'm carrying on anyway because it is feels, Sort Of, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27631667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishfulthinking1979/pseuds/Wishfulthinking1979
Summary: Lieutenant Scraps feels that the security division in the fleet needs its own name
Series: The Fox and the Lady [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918327
Comments: 14
Kudos: 58





	Who We Are

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you again to Morwen for helping with Mandalorian language! ;D I have so enjoyed learning more about clones, Mandalorian culture and the nature of the vod'e

Lieutenant Matthew Scraps knew, in the rational part of himself, that he had every right to walk to these barracks. He was an officer in the New Republic Fleet, he was head of security for the Fleet Admiral, and he was stationed on the Executor.

Rationally, he knew he could just stride into these barracks.

But he wouldn’t. 

He was honest with himself--it was intimidating. That wouldn’t stop him of course, but these men had done laps in the nine hells and come out of that scarred but stronger for it. They had seen things and done things that Scraps hoped he never faced in his career, and yet still had their humanity.

Of course there were those that questioned the humanity of clones.

If these thoughts were brought into the light of day on the Lady, someone would take the offender aside and explain the facts of life to him. Sometimes the explanation only needed to be words----strong and powerful words to be sure, but just words nonetheless, that usually left the berk white faced and trembling. 

And sometimes the explanation needed physical demonstration. Scraps himself had dealt one of those ‘explanations’ to one such bastard who had dared say some unfortunate things about Commander Fox. 

He had treated his knuckles himself and carried on. The Admiral, who didn’t miss much, had swept a swift glance over the lingering redness post bacta treatment and raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. 

Scraps had returned to his quarters that evening to find a bottle of the Admiral’s favorite whiskey on his desk. 

And these were currently the men he and Goolsby were meeting to seek their assistance.

They paused outside the corridor, but didn’t have to wait long before Commander Appo strode up to them in welcome.

“Good to see you Lieutenant! And I don’t believe I’ve met you,” he said turning to Goolsby who was already red in the face just being in the presence of a member of the original 501st.

“Ah….Goolsby, sir, also... Lieutenant. Lieutenant Goolsby.”

_ Stop stammering, Goolsby. _

“Good to meet you, Goolsby,” said Appo, clearly amused and shaking his hand. “Why don’t we step this way? There’s a smaller rec room that will work for our discussion.”

“Pull it together Goolsby,” muttered Scraps as they followed the broad shouldered Commander. “You’re embarrassing everything in the vicinity. The mouse droid was blushing.”

“Shut up, Scraps,” hissed his friend as they entered the rec room.

Serveral troopers were playing holo pong at the tables spaced at the far end of the room. A very animated card game was happening in the center, and Appo led them to a quieter section where chairs and sofas were placed in random order.

Three men stood as they approached and Scraps recognized Dogma. The other two were unknown to him, but bore the same face and they were all definitely part of the original division. 

“Gentlemen, meet Lieutenants Scraps and Goolsby. Go easy on them, they’re both still a little shiney.”

Scraps flushed and felt defensive, but realized even there that his reaction proved just how ‘shiney’ he still was.

Dogma laughed. “We’re ‘gentlemen’ now are we Appo?”

“For now,” his friend said cooly, “while we have officers like these around so don’t be a mir’sheb for just a few minutes, him?”

Scraps had no idea what that meant, but the other men were chuckling at Dogma’s expense. It seemed good natured so he merely tugged the hem of his jacket, then realized he’d done so when Appo raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. However, the Commander saved him the humiliation of pointing out that little habit and instead gestured at the sofas and chairs.

“Sit please. Drinks?”

“Oh thank you sir, only if you are,” said Scraps, sitting and removing his cap. He didn’t want this to feel like a formal meeting. What he was asking was...well it felt like he was bordering insolence.

“Well, several of us have duty shifts shortly, so we’ll dispense then.”

They all sat and Scraps felt like he was at an interview in some ways. Maybe he was. The older men were scrutinizing himself and Goolsby in a rather disconcertingly similar fashion.

Well. No time like the present.

“So, ah, obviously I’m aware of the various armor projects that the 501st has conducted,” he began, “and speaking as the Admiral’s head of security, I would like to express my deep gratitude for your work there. And for what it means, not just to the Admiral personally but to the rest of us.”

Appo nodded. “You’re welcome. Now what has you making a shu’shuk of your cap, Lieutenant?”

Scraps realized he’d been gripping the poor piece of material and twisting slightly. Kriff, he was looking like a nervous schoolboy.

_ Pull it together, Scraps! _

“Well sir, the spirit the painted armor has engendered on the Lady has been nothing but positive. I see men taking pride to serve with you. I can’t tell you how many conversations I’ve heard where someone is explaining the meaning of the Admiral’s armor, or Lord Vader’s. Everyone agrees that you all got those symbols spot on.”

The two other clones nodded in satisfaction.

“Well, I had this idea, sir, due to what you’ve done. I would like to delineate a special symbol for the armor of the security divisions that we’ve established for all our officers in the fleet.” He swallowed---this was the moment of truth.

“I wondered if we could have your approval to paint the armor of the security division. I realize that we are not of the vod’e, and so if that is in any way offensive, naturally I won’t pursue it. However, if this was something you would allow, I would very much appreciate your advice and assistance.”

“Paklalat,” muttered Dogma with a wry smile.

Scraps didn’t understand, but it seemed to be positive from the reaction of the others and he waited as Commander Appo looked at him. 

“What did you have in mind, Lieutenant?”

“Well sir,” he glanced at Goolsby. “We thought it could be rather simple. And we particularly want to honor the man who created this division. So we thought the symbol of a fox head on one pauldron and the crest of the New Republic on the other.”

There was a pause.

_ Kriff, I’ve overstepped. This was a terrible idea. _

“Commander Fox does not know that you wish to do this.”

Appo said it with certainty.

“No, sir.”

The clone commander looked at his brothers. 

“I like this idea. What do you think?”

Dogma gave a slow grin that Scraps wasn’t sure how to interpret.

“Handing Fox vod’e of his own? Hells yes.”

Appo looked at Scraps once more. “Very well, Lieutenant Scraps. We can help you. But I hope you understand the potential consequences of this operation.”

Scraps swallowed, and next to him Goolsby shifted uneasily. 

Yes. This could backfire spectacularly and he knew that. But…

_ ….but this man had sacrificed so much. Had offered himself freely to the New Republic, knowing he could have been locked in a cell somewhere. Had created this division and kriff it all, Scraps wanted to show him what that meant. They could never say it adequately and Fox would hate it if they tried. So…... _

“I do, Commander and I think I want to risk it, sir.”

Appo nodded calmly, but there was just something in his demeanor that seemed….anticipatory? Surely not gleeful?

“Very well. As this is for all the men in the division, we’re going to need some time here. I assume you don’t want Commander Fox to hear about this until it is accomplished.”   
  


“Yes, sir.”

“Wise,” said Dogma. “He needs to just have it put before him when he can’t do anything about it.”

“How will we go about collecting the armor in the fleet, Lieutenant?” asked Appo.

Oh. Yes, that was a bit of a trick. Unless….

Well. He’d already had tremendous amounts of cheek coming here in the first place. What he was thinking couldn’t be worse really.

“I think I can arrange for that sir. If you can arrange to get the armor to your barracks, we can go from there.”

Appo rose and the rest of them followed.

“I like your nerve, Lieutenant,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

  
  


****

“You arranged for  _ what _ ?”

“You heard him already, Max, don’t be rude.”

Scraps stood before the Admiral’s desk, trying to stand at ease as he’d been ordered, but it was difficult with General Veers also in the room.

He reminded himself that he had already done the more difficult part in acquiring permission from the vod’e. The Admiral, while intimidating in other respects, did not hold the same level of trepidation for him. The fact that the General was here did not need to cause his heart rate to increase. 

It did anyway.

_ Worth it, _ he reminded himself. 

Piett, who was standing behind his desk, set down the flimsi he’d been examining and crossed his arms to examine his head of security.

“And you said that the vod’e are all right with this?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“And you would like me to authorize the transfer of this armor to the Lady.”

Scraps breathed out. “Yes please, sir.”   
  


The General smiled at him suddenly. “I think my men can help you there. We’ll have it brought over in the crates we use for AT-AT parts.”

Scraps blinked. 

That had not been expected. 

Piett lifted an eyebrow at his friend. 

“Thank you, General. Why the sudden helpful spirit?”

“Admiral. Picture the Commander seeing this. Recall that you made a bet with Solo sometime back on his imperturbable visage…..”

“Yes, all right,” interrupted the Admiral hastily. “Lieutenant. I think this is an excellent idea and very appropriate. When is Commander Fox planning the next fleet wide security drills?”

Fox did this on a regular basis---calling the security divisions to the Lady once every three months to make sure they were staying as sharp as he expected.

“In a month, sir.”

“Will that be enough time to get the armor painted and returned to the owners?”

Scraps thought swiftly. “Yes, Admiral, I think so.”

Piett smiled warmly at him. “Then you have my approval and authorization. I’ll have a form sent to you.”

Scraps smiled back. “Thank you, sir.”

  
  


****

“That’s the last piece,” Dogma said, packing the pauldron carefully into the crate after assuring himself it was dry.

“I think we used all the red paint in the fleet,” said Goolsby, who had managed to get the rest of the red paint on himself, apparently. 

Scraps shook his head at him and gazed around the big rec room that was near the barracks for the 501st. 

Appo and Dogma had presented this idea to their brothers and received enthusiastic offers of help. Scraps had been very moved by this, but nodded and sat down with them to get to work. 

One of the newer 501st members, a ‘shiney’ as he recalled they liked to say, had shown some considerable skill in art, and he created a template for the fox head. 

Scraps and Goolsby had seized time whenever they could to work on the armor that Veers had smoothly and efficiently sent up to them.

At long last, this project was complete. In two days time, Scraps would get to see if his Commander would appreciate this gesture, or if he would be demoted. 

When he had proposed his idea to the rest of the fleet security teams, he had received overwhelming approval. It seemed that the idea of being marked out---to be seen as trained by Commander Fox and guarding their Captains, their Generals and their Admiral--held great appeal. 

Scraps was aware how Fox felt about overt displays of emotion. But this----this was a display of  _ loyalty _ , surely he would desire that. Or at least put up with it. He had asked Appo for the word in Mando’a.  _ Verburyc _ . He wanted his Commander to understand what this was.

“Good work all,” said Appo, placing his hands on his hips. “And I intend to be there when Fox assembles his vod’e.”

There was no mistaking the glint in his eyes. It was a bit like waiting for a thermodetonator to explode. Terrifying but exciting. 

“What will you call yourselves?” Dogma asked.

Goolsby looked at him expectantly.

Scraps hesitated. “I’m not….not. Look, I don’t feel right taking that responsibility on myself.”

“Would you allow me to suggest a name?” Commander Appo asked, all humor vanished.

“Yes, sir, I’d be honored.”

“Then I think you should be known as the Ge’tal Cabur’e, the Red Protectors.”

“Then that’s what we’ll be,” Scraps said.

  
  


***

Scraps waited, heart thundering, as all of the other security divisions assembled on the gleaming black deck of hangar bay 15. All of them were in full armor, and to his eyes, they looked fantastic---the symbols of the New Republic and the fox head standing out crisply on the white.

All of them held their helmets under one arm and stood to attention. Above them, Scraps saw Appo and Dogma slip in to watch.

And here at last was the moment.

Fox entered….flanked by none other than Veers and the Admiral himself. Piett found his eyes briefly and something flashed in that hazel gaze.

Scraps would like to say that the Admiral had arranged to be here in a show of support, but he had this nagging suspicion that the Admiral was more keen to see Commander Fox’s reaction. He knew without a doubt that Veers was here for the same reason, though both officers had admirable control over their features as usual.

Scraps almost forgot his duty when the Admiral was present, as he had not expected it, and caught himself just in time.

“Admiral on DECK!” he called and the men snapped to pristine white lines.

Fox surveyed them coolly and Scraps felt a line of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He wondered if he could tell from the man's face….

He breathed out carefully. He  _ could _ .

Fox’s eyes definitely widened slightly and the hand holding his datapad lowered to his side as he gazed at the men before him. He took a deep breath and then looked to Piett.

“I ...apologize, Admiral, the men are not in regulation armor. I….”

He stopped. He had realized just what the symbol was on the left pauldron. 

Scraps risked a look up to the catwalk to see Appo and Dogma leaning on the railing. Appo was definitely smiling. 

And Fox had seen his small eye movement.  _ How? How could he know? _

He too shot a swift and punishing glance upward and then looked once more to his superior officer. 

“Commander Fox.” Piett was calmness itself. He was also sincere and Scraps was grateful. “I approved the change to the armor. Your division is impeccable as far as I can tell.”

“....Thank you, sir.”

And Fox looked right at him.

“Lieutenant Scraps.”

“Sir!”

“Step forward.”   
  


He did so, wondering if Fox could hear how loudly his heart was beating. 

“I would like you to explain the armor...adjustments.”

He kept the brown eyed gaze. Fox would not appreciate any flinching here.

“Yes, sir. You created this security division, sir. We... _ I _ felt it appropriate to display who we are both to the fleet and to you, sir.”

“Oh yes?” Fox’s clipped tone could draw blood.

“Yes, sir. With respect to you sir, and with your approval, we are the Ge’tal Cabur’e---the Red Protectors, sir.”

There was an oppressive silence as though the whole bay held its breath. Even the Admiral and the General stood still watching the clone commander. 

Fox moved closer to him.

“This symbol,” he gestured at the fox head, “Your idea as well, Lieutenant?”

“Yes sir,” he replied immediately.

“You had help of course. And approval from on high apparently,” he shot a look back at the Admiral.

Fox stared at him, and Scraps couldn’t read his face at all.

Then he asked the central question.

“ _ Why _ ?”

“Sir. We are agreed that you made something special here. It has great value to the fleet and it means something to each of us, sir. You made that happen. Thus, the symbol. We wished to display our...loyalty. Our  _ verburyc _ .”

Fox actually raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Your  _ loyalty _ is to the New Republic, Lieutenant Scraps.”

“Yes, sir. Thus, the symbol on the other pauldron.”

General Veers actually coughed. 

“We see it as one and the same, sir. You are our commander. Is that satisfactory, sir?”

He held his breath literally, and knew Goolsby was doing the same slightly behind and to his left.

Fox gazed over the rows and Scraps saw his jaw tighten and the muscles in his throat work. He took two steadying breaths before bringing his gaze back to Scraps.

“It is satisfactory, Lieutenant.”

Scraps saluted him smartly, and the rest of the men followed. 

Fox raised his own hand in response. 

The Ge’tal Cabur’e had been established.

**Author's Note:**

> Shu'shuk---disaster
> 
> paklalat---silver tongue eloquence
> 
> Ge'tal--Red
> 
> Cabur'e-Protectors/Guardians


End file.
